


How to Lose Friends & Manipulate People

by Masu_Trout



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Amorality, Evil Corporations, M/M, Mission Fic, Plus Back-Alley Makeouts, Rough Kissing, Snark, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-26 08:34:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4997980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masu_Trout/pseuds/Masu_Trout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one in the Turks seems to understand the meaning of cooperation, and Reno is absolutely no exception.</p><p>(Reno, Zack, a mission, and a handful or two of poor decisions.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to Lose Friends & Manipulate People

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Neurotoxia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neurotoxia/gifts).



The gunshot echoed through the alley. A bloom of red and grey burst across the man's face as he dropped to the ground. 

Dead, of course. Reno would never miss a target. 

Even when that target was someone they were supposed to take alive, apparently.

“Damn it,” Zack said. He tried to work some emotion into his voice. Anger at failing the mission, maybe, or horror at watching a man gunned down right in front of him without so much as a warning.

It wouldn't come. He was just tired.

Reno grinned at him from his perch in the alley, then vaulted easily over the railing of the fire escape and dropped to the ground below. Smiled, pearly teeth gleaming, because Reno was Reno and Reno was an asshole. 

Law of the universe right there. Zack never should have forgotten it.

“What are we going to do now?” He tried to keep the whine out of his voice, but some of his aggravation seeped through. The guy had been sector-hopping for weeks, and Shinra had been chasing him for just as long. This foul-smelling, filthy alley was supposed to be their big lead.

Sephiroth was going to be so mad.

“Relax,” Reno drawled, slapping Zack on the back in an overly friendly gesture. “I got the call from Tseng. They managed to catch the ringleader, and he agreed to help us out right away.” Poisonous satisfaction dripped from his every word—Zack had a feeling that Tseng was probably responsible for the terrorist leader's quick cooperation. “We didn't need this one after all, so it was just easier to clean up right away.”

“You couldn't have told me that _before_ I went after him?”

Reno stepped closer, draping himself across Zack's shoulder. For such a tiny guy, he had a way of taking up space.“What, and deny you the chance to do something useful? The SOLDIER department needs to earn its budget somehow.”

Zack knew he should back up, put some distance between the two of them. Instead, he found himself leaning in to meet the challenge in Reno's smile. “I guess we can't all spend our time up in Shinra Tower, sticking knives in people for fun.”

Reno laughed softly. “That's not fair. We don't only use knives, you know. We've got a little more creativity than some departments.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Show me a SOLDIER who _doesn't_ use a fuckin' huge-ass sword and I'll show you a double agent.”

This close, Zack's vision was taken up almost entirely by Reno's dark green eyes. Somehow he'd always assumed that Reno dyed his hair—after all, just about everything else about the man was doctored, covered up, or faked entirely—but his eyelashes were the same bright red as the rest of his hair. 

(Unless Reno dyed his eyelashes too. Zack honestly wouldn't put it past him.)

Zack considered asking him about it, remembered just how much of a pain a pissed-off Reno could be, and decided to go for the option that didn't involve talking. 

“ _Ah_ ,” Reno hissed as Zack leaned in and kissed him. He reached up with both hands, brushing Zack's cheekbones in a soft caress before grabbing tight handfuls of his hair, then bit at Zack's lip as they pressed against each other.

Zack growled and dug his hands into Reno's hips, pressing him back against the grimy wall. Not hard enough to break a bone, but enough to leave a mark. It wasn't so much a warning as a reminder: _You're not the only one here who knows how to fight._

Zack wasn't the sadistic sort, but he didn't like getting pushed around.

Reno ran his fingers through Zack's hair in a strange sort of apology, clutching even tighter to him as he did. He was bony and warm and seemed completely incapable of keeping still; Zack could feel the outlines of sharp steel press against him every time Reno squirmed. Judging by the contours, he was carrying at least seven or eight knives strapped to his torso alone.

 _Ridiculous,_ Zack thought. Everything about the guy was completely absurd.

A few moments (hours?) later Reno pulled back, grinning as he broke off the kiss. 

“Asshole,” he said. “I think you bruised my hip. You know how much that stings?”

“Yeah, well, I think you gave me a bald spot, so we're even.”

“Even, he says.” Reno mock-grimaced, slouching against the wall. He had to be smearing all sort of filth across his suit, but he didn't seem to care. The power of free dry-cleaning, Zack supposed. “None of your team is gonna _comment_ if you come back with a sore head.”

“Well, maybe next time you'll think before you start trying to yank out all my hair.”

“Next time, huh? You're awfully sure of yourself.”

Zack snorted. “You're not _that_ much of a catch, Turk.”

“Hey, speaking of catch...” Reno's grin was toothier than a gremlin's and about half as friendly. “How do you feel about getting the fuck outta here?”

Nothing good could come from the look in those eyes. Zack didn't want to ask, but ignoring the question would only screw him over worse. “Why?”

“We've got about five minutes before our target's buddies show up.”

“ _What?_ ” Zack yelped. He glanced down the alley, half-convinced he'd see them storming it as he spoke. “What do you mean, 'about five'? How far away are they?” 

Zack could take a few dozen normal people in a fight, and Reno could provide decent backupin a pinch—he was unenhanced, not incapable. But they were in the absolute darkest corners of Midgar's underground; anti-Shinra sentiment ran dangerously high. If word of a fight between locals and Shinra employees got out, they'd have a riot on their hands in no time flat.

Sephiroth was going to be so, _so_ mad.

Reno shrugged. “Tseng told me they were twenty minutes out, and it's been about fifteen, so... five-ish.”

“Tseng told you _how_ long ago?” 

“We had a good thing going. I didn't want to interrupt it. Seize the day and all that, right?” The sorrowful look on his face was so blatantly fake that it wrapped around to sincerity and back again. Zack had never wanted to strangle anyone so much in his life.

“You're-” 

Insufferable. Unbelievable. Aggravating. Intolerable. 

“-such a pain in my ass.”

“Heh.”

“ _Don't say it._ ”

Five-ish minutes had become closer to four as they spoke. No time left to waste. He could murder Reno later—if he filled out the right paperwork Tseng might even let him.

He glanced around the alley, his eyes settling desperately on the body. A few blood splatters could be ignored—they could be from anyone, and this place saw them often enough. An entire corpse, though, would be harder to hide. They needed to destroy it or take it with them.

With a rustle and a flourish, Reno pulled something from under the jacket of his suit: a black bag made from some thin material, just the right size for a body. “Way ahead of you.”

He was going to choose to believe that Reno was simply freakishly prepared. Otherwise, he really would have to strangle the man. Still, he couldn't resist one last dig as he ripped the bag from Reno's hands and began to unzip it. “You couldn't've even brought a fire materia? Some help you are.”

Reno grimaced. “Tell that to Tseng. The department never lets me take materia on missions anymore.”

“On second thought, that's probably smart.” Reno-with-a-gun was bad enough, and Reno-with-magic couldn't possibly be _less_ destructive.

The body bag went over the man with little fuss. Zack zipped it up, then hoisted the corpse onto his back as he stood. “If this thing leaks on me, you're paying for the replacement uniform.”

“Yeah, yeah, no problem. I can afford the ten gil out of my paycheck.”

”Jackass,” Zack grumbled, a little more fondly than he'd intended, and the two of them disappeared into the gloom of the sector's back alleys.


End file.
